Clotheswerehangingonlinesstretchedacrosstheyard；shesnatchedoffherpetticoatsandblousesstillwetandflungthemintothedeafman’sarms。Theninherfuryshedashedabouttheyardbythelinen，toredownallofit，andwhatwasnothersshethrewonthegroundandtrampledupon。
　　“HolySaints，takeheraway，“moanedVarvara。“Whatawoman！GiveherButyokino！Giveither，fortheLord’ssake！
　　“Well！Wha-atawoman！“peopleweresayingatthegate。“She’sawo-oman！She’sgoingit——somethinglike！“
　　Aksinyaranintothekitchenwherewashingwasgoingon。Lipawaswashingalone，thecookhadgonetotherivertorinsetheclothes。Steamwasrisingfromthetroughandfromthecaldrononthesideofthestove，andthekitchenwasthickandstiflingfromthesteam。Onthefloorwasaheapofunwashedclothes，andNikifor，kickinguphislittleredlegs，hadbeenputdownonabenchnearthem，sothatifhefellheshouldnothurthimself。
　　JustasAksinyawentinLipatooktheformer’schemiseoutoftheheapandputitinthetrough，andwasjuststretchingoutherhandtoabigladleofboilingwaterwhichwasstandingonthetable。
　　“Giveithere，“saidAksinya，lookingatherwithhatred，andsnatchingthechemiseoutofthetrough；“itisnotyourbusinesstotouchmylinen！Youareaconvict’swife，andoughttoknowyourplaceandwhoyouare。“
　　Lipagazedather，takenaback，anddidnotunderstand，butsuddenlyshecaughtthelookAksinyaturneduponthechild，andatoncesheunderstoodandwentnumballover。
　　“You’vetakenmyland，sohereyouare！“SayingthisAksinyasnatcheduptheladlewiththeboilingwaterandflungitoverNikifor。
　　AfterthistherewasheardascreamsuchashadneverbeenheardbeforeinUkleevo，andnoonewouldhavebelievedthatalittleweakcreaturelikeLipacouldscreamlikethat。Anditwassuddenlysilentintheyard。
　　Aksinyawalkedintothehousewithheroldnaivesmile。Thedeafmankeptmovingabouttheyardwithhisarmsfulloflinen，thenhebeganhangingitupagain，insilence，withouthaste。Anduntilthecookcamebackfromtherivernooneventuredtogointothekitchenandseewhatwasthere。
　　Nikiforwastakentothedistricthospital，andtowardseveninghediedthere。Lipadidnotwaitforthemtocomeforher，butwrappedthedeadbabyinitslittlequiltandcarriedithome。
　　Thehospital，anewonerecentlybuilt，withbigwindows，stoodhighuponahill；itwasglitteringfromthesettingsunandlookedasthoughitwereonfirefrominside。Therewasalittlevillagebelow。Lipawentdownalongtheroad，andbeforereachingthevillagesatdownbyapond。Awomanbroughtahorsedowntodrinkandthehorsedidnotdrink。
　　“Whatmoredoyouwant？“saidthewomantoitsoftly。“Whatdoyouwant？“
　　Aboyinaredshirt，sittingatthewater’sedge，waswashinghisfather’sboots。Andnotanothersoulwasinsighteitherinthevillageoronthehill。
　　“It’snotdrinking，“saidLipa，lookingatthehorse。
　　Thenthewomanwiththehorseandtheboywiththebootswalkedaway，andtherewasnooneleftatall。Thesunwenttobedwrappedinclothofgoldandpurple，andlongclouds，redandlilac，stretchedacrossthesky，guardeditsslumbers。Somewherefarawayabitterncried，ahollow，melancholysoundlikeacowshutupinabarn。Thecryofthatmysteriousbirdwasheardeveryspring，butnooneknewwhatitwaslikeorwhereitlived。
　　Atthetopofthehillbythehospital，inthebushesclosetothepond，andinthefieldsthenightingalesweretrilling。Thecuckookeptreckoningsomeone’syearsandlosingcountandbeginningagain。Inthepondthefrogscalledangrilytooneanother，strainingthemselvestobursting，andonecouldevenmakeoutthewords:“That’swhatyouare！That’swhatyouare！“
　　Whatanoisetherewas！Itseemedasthoughallthesecreaturesweresingingandshoutingsothatnoonemightsleeponthatspringnight，sothatall，eventheangryfrogs，mightappreciateandenjoyeveryminute:lifeisgivenonlyonce。
　　Asilverhalf-moonwasshininginthesky；thereweremanystars。
　　Lipahadnoideahowlongshesatbythepond，butwhenshegotupandwalkedoneverybodywasasleepinthelittlevillage，andtherewasnotasinglelight。Itwasprobablyaboutninemiles’
　　walkhome，butshehadnotthestrength，shehadnotthepowertothinkhowtogo:themoongleamednowinfront，nowontheright，andthesamecuckookeptcallinginavoicegrownhusky，withachuckleasthoughgibingather:“Oy，lookout，you’llloseyourway！“Lipawalkedrapidly；shelostthekerchieffromherhead。shelookedattheskyandwonderedwhereherbaby’ssoulwasnow:wasitfollowingher，orfloatingaloftyonderamongthestarsandthinkingnothingnowofhismother？Oh，howlonelyitwasintheopencountryatnight，inthemidstofthatsingingwhenonecannotsingoneself；inthemidstoftheincessantcriesofjoywhenonecannotoneselfbejoyful，whenthemoon，whichcaresnotwhetheritisspringorwinter，whethermenarealiveordead，looksdownaslonely，too。Whenthereisgriefintheheartitishardtobewithoutpeople。Ifonlyhermother，Praskovya，hadbeenwithher，orCrutch，orthecook，orsomepeasant！
　　“Boo-oo！“criedthebittern。“Boo-oo！“
　　Andsuddenlysheheardclearlythesoundofhumanspeech:“Putthehorsesin，Vavila！“
　　Bythewaysideacampfirewasburningaheadofher:theflameshaddieddown，therewereonlyredembers。Shecouldhearthehorsesmunching。Inthedarknessshecouldseetheoutlinesoftwocarts，onewithabarrel，theother，aloweronewithsacksinit，andthefiguresoftwomen；onewasleadingahorsetoputitintotheshafts，theotherwasstandingmotionlessbythefirewithhishandsbehindhisback。Adoggrowledbythecarts。Theonewhowasleadingthehorsestoppedandsaid:
　　“Itseemsasthoughsomeonewerecomingalongtheroad。“
　　“Sharik，bequiet！“theothercalledtothedog。
　　Andfromthevoiceonecouldtellthatthesecondwasanoldman。
　　Lipastoppedandsaid:
　　“Godhelpyou。“
　　Theoldmanwentuptoherandanswerednotimmediately:
　　“Good-evening！“
　　“Yourdogdoesnotbite，grandfather？“
　　“No，comealong，hewon’ttouchyou。“
　　“Ihavebeenatthehospital，“saidLipaafterapause。“Mylittlesondiedthere。HereIamcarryinghimhome。“
　　Itmusthavebeenunpleasantfortheoldmantohearthis，forhemovedawayandsaidhurriedly:
　　“Nevermind，mydear。It’sGod’swill。Youareveryslow，lad，“
　　headded，addressinghiscompanion；“lookalive！
　　“Youryoke’snowhere，“saidtheyoungman；“itisnottobeseen。“
　　“YouarearegularVavila。“
　　Theoldmanpickedupanember，blewonit——onlyhiseyesandnosewerelightedup——then，whentheyhadfoundtheyoke，hewentwiththelighttoLipaandlookedather，andhislookexpressedcompassionandtenderness。
　　“Youareamother，“hesaid；“everymothergrievesforherchild。“
　　Andhesighedandshookhisheadashesaidit。Vavilathrewsomethingonthefire，stampedonit——andatonceitwasverydark；thevisionvanished，andasbeforetherewereonlythefields，theskywiththestars，andthenoiseofthebirdshinderingeachotherfromsleep。Andthelandrailcalled，itseemed，intheveryplacewherethefirehadbeen。
　　Butaminutepassed，andagainshecouldseethetwocartsandtheoldmanandlankyVavila。Thecartscreakedastheywentoutontheroad。
　　“Areyouholymen？“Lipaaskedtheoldman。
　　“No。WearefromFirsanovo。“
　　“Youlookedatmejustnowandmyheartwassoftened。Andtheyoungmanissogentle。Ithoughtyoumustbeholymen。“
　　“Areyougoingfar？“
　　“ToUkleevo。“
　　“Getin，wewillgiveyoualiftasfarasKuzmenki，thenyougostraightonandweturnofftotheleft。“
　　VavilagotintothecartwiththebarrelandtheoldmanandLipagotintotheother。Theymovedatawalkingpace，Vavilainfront。
　　“Mybabywasintormentallday，“saidLipa。“Helookedatmewithhislittleeyesandsaidnothing；hewantedtospeakandcouldnot。HolyFather，QueenofHeaven！InmygriefIkeptfallingdownonthefloor。Istoodupandfelldownbythebedside。Andtellme，grandfather，whyalittlethingshouldbetormentedbeforehisdeath？Whenagrown-upperson，amanorwoman，areintormenttheirsinsareforgiven，butwhyalittlething，whenhehasnosins？Why？“
　　“Whocantell？“answeredtheoldman。
　　Theydroveonforhalfanhourinsilence。
　　“Wecan’tknoweverything，howandwherefore，“saidtheoldman。
　　“Itisordainedforthebirdtohavenotfourwingsbuttwobecauseitisabletoflywithtwo；andsoitisordainedformannottoknoweverythingbutonlyahalforaquarter。Asmuchasheneedstoknowsoastolive，somuchheknows。“
　　“Itisbetterformetogoonfoot，grandfather。Nowmyheartisallofatremble。“
　　“Nevermind，sitstill。“
　　Theoldmanyawnedandmadethesignofthecrossoverhismouth。